tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5828812871237122702018-05-27T20:59:43.797-04:00The Rachel MichelleProfessor Joyce once said to me, "every time i see you, i say to myself 'i wish i knew more about her'..." i smiled, laughed a little and went on my way...Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-3873985313653950852010-01-03T20:21:00.009-05:002010-01-03T21:12:56.640-05:00life's no fun when you're eating burritos...<span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;">I'M BORED!</span><br /><br />i was swamped with work while studying for finals. additionally,<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);">it has taken </span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" >mucho</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> effort for me not to nose dive into the abyss of lunacy</span></span> while thinking of all the loose ends of my life, in which i shall soon be entangled. finals ended. i slept. i ate. i watched casino...i sat in front of blank pages of opportunity and did nothing.<br /><br />i haven't been writing; i should be writing.<br />i haven't been focused; what should i be focused on?<br />i should really get it together.<br />i think<span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153); font-weight: bold;"> i laughed about 73 times</span> in the past 5 months.<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"> is that a lot?</span> probably not, right?<br />i feel like a big, huge...<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">.</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">blah</span></span></span>.<br /><br />what am i talking about? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">im</span> talking about under-stimulation! for the past five months, the <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">highlight of my days has been lunch time</span></span>; and i love burritos. think that's sad? well, get this:<br /><br />there are just about 150 days in a 5 month period; that means that <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:130%;" >there are about 150-207 lunch times in a 5 month period</span> (...some days <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">im</span> VERY hungry...). within the past 5 months, i have only had about 26 burritos. so, just imagine how i feel. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">smh</span>.<br /><br />now it's winter...um, definite crisis. i can't stand the cold so <span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">cabin fever</span></span> is surely imminent.<br /><br />but i know what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">im</span> going to do. it's time to get organized, get motivated; <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">im</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">tryna</span> get that old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">thang</span> back!<br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-style: italic;">just a little spill, </span><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">i'll</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-style: italic;"> be back with more sensible things soon </span><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-style: italic;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">lol</span>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-65763527933670256102009-08-14T16:54:00.006-04:002009-08-14T17:07:21.982-04:00Oh, Lawd, Jesus, I'm Sorry!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SoXQ96nxpdI/AAAAAAAAAK8/pViI7R7xhjc/s1600-h/Jesusismyhomeboy.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369927892835870162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 307px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SoXQ96nxpdI/AAAAAAAAAK8/pViI7R7xhjc/s320/Jesusismyhomeboy.bmp" border="0" /></a> It's important to maintain and nurture your relationship with God. Talk, pray and meditate with Him. Let Him be your rock, your strength….<br />your friend?<br /><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;">Have you ever tried to joke around with Jesus like you do with your friends?<br /></span></em></strong><br />Isn't that the scariest ish ever!?<br /><br />So, just about 15 minutes ago, I was hanging out in my room, straightening up a little and tinkering with my hair; itunes was on shuffle. T.I. was just shouting about someone "finna get <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">hurt, murked [&amp;] put in the dirt</span></strong>"…so I was feeling a *little* rowdy; just a little. [like how you get when "head bussa" comes on in the club--you rock to it just enough to send the message "I phcks with the song...but, <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;">by no means do I intend on getting into a head bussin predicament...</span></em></strong>" ]<br /><br />Well, shortly following the recently incarcerated king of the south, itunes decided that it was time for gospel hour; I was still feeling the secular vibes that had just barely left my eardrums, but, nonetheless, I'm pro-Jesus so <strong><em><span style="color:#33ccff;">bring it on, Kirk Franklin</span></em></strong>!<br /><br />...sometimes Where the Spirit of the Lord is there's just a<em><strong> bit too much</strong></em> liberty…<br /><br />Kirk asked, "is there anybody here that loves Jesus?" and,--was feeling good, albeit a little smartassy-- "no, <span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"><strong><em>Jesus know I don't get down with Him like that</em></strong></span>," rolled so hastily over my cognitive tongue...<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;">oh. my. Goodness.<br /></span></strong><br />the fear of hell and all things unholy instantly flared up in me. I was so scared! I apologized profusely.<br /><br />Oh no! sorry, Jesus! I was just playin, I didn't mean that, I say that to all my friends!….*silence*…..[what was I thinking saying im not down with Jesus? did He hear me? damn, I know He heard me…but, what do I do?...should I pray?... <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;">Is he gonna smite me??</span></em></strong> im scared…see, this is what I get for for tryna be too down with the son of God…<em><strong>Jesus is not my peer</strong></em>, why was I trying to act all BFFish with Him?...smh]…<br /><br />So, I calmed down...me and Jesus had a chat about it. He's assured me that He does, in fact, have a sense of humor. [*Phew*] Still, I explained to Him that <strong><em><span style="color:#33ccff;">despite my inclination to joke at unnecessary and even inappropriate times, I'm very down with Him, but not too down…as down as I can be without being blasphemous.</span></em></strong> He told me that He knew that…He knows everything about me; especially my heart.<br /><br />I feel better now. Thanks, Jesus :D<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://www.quizilla.com/quizzes/635805/are-you-going-to-heaven-or-hell"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369928126591046306" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SoXRLhbWkqI/AAAAAAAAALE/09m8hs4nyOA/s200/freeheaventest.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com128tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-20840536047294175122009-08-13T14:04:00.004-04:002009-08-13T14:17:24.175-04:00! D i r t y H o !<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SoRYL-9rJwI/AAAAAAAAAK0/_L6aGfTJEUA/s1600-h/showdown.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369513618635958018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SoRYL-9rJwI/AAAAAAAAAK0/_L6aGfTJEUA/s320/showdown.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />we were chillin and I decided I wanted to wrestle…it was all fun &amp; sexy games until...<br /><br />i took the friendliest <span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"><strong><em>sucker punch</em></strong></span> to my soft, defenseless gut. <em><strong>[lawd. have. mercy.]</strong></em> it just plain hurt. i wasn't mad though; he was just playing around and got a little too heavy handed--besides, im the one who initiated the roughhousing…well…that's what I told myself but I was mad. i HAD to get him back for that.<br /><br />i threw around my body weight with the intent of man-handling him…I failed :-\. In my new found aggression, he saw how serious I'd become so he decided to lighten my mood by attacking my midsection with his big-ass hands. Relentlessly, he tickled me; to the point that i was violently flailing about so i could get away from him...in doing so i accidentally<strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> <em><span style="color:#33ccff;">punched him in the face</span></em></span></strong> [...oops :-S... ]. he was a.n.g.e.r.e.d. and so he set out to show me who exactly wears the wrestling-pants…<br /><br />I found out that, in fact, I do <strong>not</strong> wear those pants.<br /><br />both of us had now been injured by each other's clumsiness, yet, we still hadn't learned a big enough lesson to call it quits.<br /><br />The childish tousling and shoving made it's way out of the bedroom into the hall and almost <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;">through the wall(!!)</span></em></strong> when I ran at him and pushed him against it and felt it buckle...<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">[WAIT. HOLD UP. "STOP THE HORSEPLAY RIGHT NOW".]</span></strong><br /><br />I put all of the madness on pause to survey the damage because my <span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"><strong><em>$750</em></strong></span> security deposit flashed before my eyes…I looked it over for a good minute and a half…and then we were back at it...<br /><br />moving out of the hallway toward the refrigerator, it was an absolute fluke of hyperactivity and revenge,<strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"> i hip tossed his all of his 145lbs onto the kitchen floor</span></em></strong>. He'd officially had enough. He trapped me in some kind of UFC death grip wherein I was rendered completely immobile for an entire 7 minutes, until I swore I would stop all the nonsense.<br /><br />by the end of it all we were worn out; sweaty, sore and still mad at each other for all of the accidentals.<br /><br />It all started as a game. We vowed never to play again.</div>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-78446370823181954202009-08-12T12:44:00.009-04:002009-08-13T14:03:27.481-04:00Macho Mom & The Subway SurferThe mornings are not happy times for me. It's early, I'm required to get out of bed, I'm not allowed to "dress down" and people always find a way to touch me, pester me or somehow molest my sanity.<br /><br />True to form, one hot, muggy morning I went to get on the subway--heading to my unpaid job :D--trying to block out all of the <em><strong>schizophrenic shade being thrown by the ever multiplying personalities</strong></em> harbored by NYC.<br /><br />While I was waiting on line to get my metro card, I was approached by this diesel chick <strong><span style="color:#cccccc;">[um…~uncomfortable~...],<br /></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;">"I'm not homeless, ok?!"</span><br /></strong></span><br />"…uh…oh…ok…" was my response.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"><strong>"I'm pregnant and I need some money to feed my baby,"</strong></span> was her stern, seemingly threatening rebuttal. She continued, "blah, blah, b.s., excuses, blah, so If you could spare anything, <em>anything</em>…*blank stare*" so, I don't know why but, I gave her 2 one dollar coins, smiled and said "here you go." I turned back around and took a step toward the machine and….<strong>she stepped forward WITH ME</strong>…[~uh~]…reluctantly, I looked at her and she says<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>"Anything??"</em><br /></span></strong><br />You could have sold me for a counterfeit penny. I couldn't even speak!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"><strong>I just gave her TWO DOLLARS which should be a lot to a beggar</strong></span>…but,<strong> </strong>I just chalked it up to a misunderstanding; she must have thought I had <em><strong>only</strong></em> given her 2 quarters…which is still more than enough to be grateful for!<br /><br />There was nothing else I could do but complete my transaction and walk away; I had to get on the train.<br /><br />Surprisingly, even amidst the morning rush, the car I was on was just about empty…but there was this guy at the opposite end of the car. While the train was moving,<span style="color:#cccccc;"> </span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cccccc;">he was standing in the middle of the car, drinking a dr. pepper, not holding onto anything.</span> </strong></span>He was giving me this strange look; I couldn't tell if it was a "look-how-cool-I-am-I-ride-the-train-with-no-hands" look or a <span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;"><strong>"i-dare-you-to-look-at-me-again-I'll-f*ck-you-up"</strong></span> look….i was a little nervous so I looked away and just kept him in my peripheral.<br /><br />Then, I caught some excessive movement from the corner of my eye, so, I looked back and saw that this man started walking around while the train was moving. [~smh~] Well, just before he could begin to feel as cool as he knew that he was and take another sip of his beverage, the train jerked. Hard. Down went the subway surfer; <strong>he never let go of the dr. pepper.<br /></strong><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;">*enter--the 3 man mariachi band*<br /></span></strong></em><br />I maxed the volume on my ipod…2 more stops and I was out of there.Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-76541545689154685632009-08-11T22:26:00.003-04:002009-08-12T12:38:59.350-04:00Lucky Charmsnew set.<br /><br />i tried to establish a consistent theme with the patterns and draping on the pieces.<br />the skirt and the earrings are my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">favs</span> in this set.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/lucky_charms/set?.mid=embed&amp;id=11178933"><img title="lucky charms" height="400" alt="lucky charms" src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFmtOUjFiWTJHM2hHZ2VPVklIVTU1VEEAAAACaWQKAWUAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" width="400" border="0" /></a><br /><small><a href="http://www.polyvore.com/lucky_charms/set?.mid=embed&amp;id=11178933">lucky charms</a> by <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/profile?.mid=embed&amp;id=922006"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">therachelmichelle</span></a> featuring <a href="http://www.polyvore.com/rojas/shop?brand=Rojas&amp;category_id=2">Rojas</a></small>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-42579075341498255162009-08-11T15:44:00.003-04:002009-08-11T22:55:16.324-04:00I'm an artist trudging through law school.After trying for so long to do this blog thing but kind of failing, due to the fact that I never update [<span style="color:#ff6666;">:-(</span>], I've decided to give it the old heave-ho and start…yet again. I think all the time about what to add, but it's almost as if im putting myself on the spot and I go completely blank. I. get. nothing. It's like the classic interview-opener, <strong><span style="color:#6600cc;">"so, tell me about yourself"</span></strong> and I trying to think of pertinent information to offer…only, pertinent to what?<br /><br />So, now I remember the point of this thing. <span style="color:#6600cc;"><strong>My life is full of silliness and fuckery</strong></span> [I've added this to my MS dictionary btw]; ridiculous people and unbelievable situations that I can no longer stand for going unaddressed…so, share I shall. Here we go, take 3...<br /><br />So, a little bit about me:<br /><br />• I'm a ~<em>creative</em>~ writer so bare with me if the simplest message is convoluted by verbosity and unnecessary phrasing.<br />• I <span style="color:#ffccff;">love art</span> and creating; I want to share some of my work but <span style="color:#330099;">im very sensitive</span>--likely to cry-- about it so I'm not yet sure if I will.<br />• My mind is always all over the place, making me a RanDom person.<br />• <strong>I'm not patient</strong>. concentration is a chore for me; I prefer to let things just come to me on their own terms rather than exerting unnecessary amounts of time or energy trying to get to the proverbial point B.<br />• Im scared of commitment…I just found this out today (Tuesday, August 11, 2009) :-\<br />• I LOVE talking...Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-87765807174912565152009-04-08T18:39:00.009-04:002009-08-12T13:17:43.414-04:00why can't we be friends?im not on facebook anymore [*GASP*] but I just thought of something funny to tell you about lol…<br /><br />so, I was used to getting random messages from strangers throwing out the same textbook "get to know you" jive [yah I said it, jive]; no surprises there. but in the beginning of march [last year], I suppose in anticipation of coming spring season, one of these "same ol' '" turkeys decided he was gonna get brand *spankin* new…with me!<br /><br />*I just want you to know that I signed back into facebook after cancelling my account just to see if I could fish out the messages so that I could directly quote them for you…*<br /><br />So it was a bright and sunny day, a little windy but workable, ya know? I get a friendly message from none other than Mr. Who #105 and I was cordial and responded…last time I ever did that:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: "hey whats upp Rachel? whats goin on with you? just came across your page and u look like a cool person and seem like u got a nice personality so i thought id hit you up and say hi. hit me back when u get the chance, id like to get to know you!!!"<br /><br />ME: hi. there isn't too much going on with me other than school. i appreciate that u took out time to say hello. how are you?<br /></span><br />The rest was followed by a few more notes of "blah, blah, blah…im in school, so are you... now what? Good day and good night." that was the end of that no harm, no foul as usual…until 2 weeks later:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: hey supp with you? hows your week going so far? enjoying the weather with the cool breeze passing through your <strong>Coffy Brown Fro Lol</strong>.[...]Hey so i was wondering if you would like to get some coffee sometime at starbucks or the cafe on the quad lol. dunno what your preference is :D<br /></span><br />*side eye* @ "Coffy Brown Fro" …I wear a puff. Not a fro…but anyway...<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">ME: hi, how are you? my week is pretty slow going lol thanks for asking.[…something about spring weather...]. <strong>thank you</strong> very much for the invitation but im going to <strong>respectfully decline</strong>your offer.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: yeah i know what you mean. i love the spring, the summer is too hot. So <strong>may i respectfully ask why </strong>you declined?<br /></span><br />Ugh. Why does it matter?...but I said:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">ME: because <strong>i don't know you </strong>and so it would be an awkward situation; i would be uncomfortable.</span><br /><br />HOW POLITE WAS I?...evidently that doesn't matter because he still wasn't satisfied. At this point he decided that he was going to attempt to corner me through an internet interrogation:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: oh aight. thats understandable. <strong>So how do you get to know someone?</strong> I apologize if i seemed too forward. I<em> just think you're a cool and outgoing person and have a lot of unique qualities</em>, and i was interested in meeting you and getting to know you....</span><br /><br /><em>…right…he gathered this from my default pic and my 4 previous messages in which he learned that 1. im in law school 2. im very busy 3. I wish I didn't have homework and 4. I was going out that night…how cool and unique…</em><br />ME: there's not concrete method of getting to know someone but everything has a natural way of developing (which i suppose is subjective) and, to me, this is not it.<br /><br />aaandd this is where I lost him…<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: hmm. can you explain what you mean because I don't really understand it.<br /></span><br />Idk why I didn't simply end the communication…actually, you know why I didn't? because now I was annoyed by his inability to comprehend my very basic explanation and even if that wasn't so simple to understand, why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? I already expressed that we wouldn't be meeting and as far as I am concerned that is all that matters…really though? Im just a jerk and I wanted to watch him grasp at straws LOL:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">ME: I can't answer the question "how do you get to know someone?" because there is not right or wrong way to go about it. However, there is a natural order to things, i.e. <strong>the way interpersonal relationships develop; exchanging general messages over the internet seems, to me, a contrived way to go about it.</strong> so, the idea of meeting you is awkward. i guess this all is just a roundabout way of saying that we most likely will not get to know each other beyond the present method. i tried my best to be concise lol...it probably was a futile attempt.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: <strong>WOW. thats a lot of assumptions</strong>, but just to let you know there was nothing contrived about my intentions, but if thats the way you feel, you're entitled to your opinion and i will respect your personal space.</span><br /><br />Call me presumptuous, but im gonna go ahead and assume that the use of the term "interpersonal relationships" was a bit much for him…..and I said it for that very reason; I can't help myself sometimes. I clearly could have quit by this time but no, now he thought he was just gonna "wow" me<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">[you know how people say it to try to make everything and everybody else but them seem crazy, "woooooooow"]</span><br />and back out of the embarrassment he could have avoided in the first place by accepting my "respectful decline"... I just wasn't having that.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">ME: lol clearly you misunderstood. i don't have any assumptions about your intentions. im just talking about the general way in which people interact with each other (those are called interpersonal relationships by the way). what is contrived is an interpersonal relationship (or a friendship-- just to make it a little simpler for understanding) initiated by a random series of facebook notes. <strong>all i wanted to make clear is that i did not want to meet with you and said nothing about your intentions</strong> or what i think of them; because i don't know what they are and so have no feelings about them. that's all.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: <strong>OK!</strong></span></span><br /><br />Oop…he yelled at me!....<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">ME: just wanted to be clear.<br /><br />MR. WHO: yea but you should have said thay waaaaayyyyyy back don't you think?<br /></span><br />¿qué, Crazy? First…quick question... didn't I already RESPECTFULLY DECLINE your offer because I didn't want to meet you? Second, "waaaaayyyyyy back" when? ….let me put some things into proper perspective for you:<br /><br />1. He initiated convo numero uno on <strong>March 1st</strong>. Everything pertaining to that conversation was said on <strong>March 1st</strong>.<br />2. He sent the "Operation: Why Can't We Be Friends?" proposal ( a.k.a the starbucks meet-up)on <strong>March 14th </strong>and all other notes exchanged between us were exchanged on <strong>March 14th</strong>.<br />3. So, we're talking about 2 days worth of communication…in what time frame does "waaaaayyyyyy back" start?<br />So, anyway, I told him, no I didn't think I had to tell him that immediately following his first message because plenty of people sent me messages and don't ask me to stare in their face awkwardly over irrelevant cups of coffee…so he said ok….and about one month later, after no further communication:<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">MR. WHO: hey supp with you? just wondering what u doing sat night...ps. ill say hi the next time i see you in the lab, ive been stressed with some personal issues. you can try saying hi too<br /></span><br /><br />WTH?? GTHFO!!<br /><br />*i would write "the end" here but i realized that now he's <strong>always</strong> in the law school computer lab and he kept resending his friend request everytime i declined it*<br /><br />:-\Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-53924551366297071202009-02-26T19:08:00.003-05:002009-08-12T13:19:01.387-04:00just a rant...cloudy thoughtstoday was a pretty tiresome day; I was burning up in the middle of the previous february night (well, early morning actually)and just couldn't get to sleep. So, I just got up earlier than I planned to study. I swore my constitutional law professor had it out for me today so I wracked my conscientiousness with quasi-immutable-classified-suspects due strictly rational scrutiny…I think…she didn't even call on me.<br /><br />I've been disappointed lately because I haven't really been in touch with my thoughts. Every now and then I go through periods of kinetic subjugation, mentality being repressed. ideas come to me but not the energy to explore them; I've been writing them down to revisit (most likely around 3 O'Clock a.m. tomorrow). what i was able to unfurl is that i'm lacking stimulating interactions and i believe it is because i am currently overexposed to contact (via 11 different social networks, instant messaging, telephone/text msg, email, notes, personal messengers etc.)…I miss just having my notebook. I've resolved that I must have more communication with myself than with anyone or anything else.<br /><br /><br />Just a little check in….i've got a few stories to tell you later; and i'll get some new pictures up too.Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-2691091882367343082009-02-23T13:51:00.005-05:002009-08-12T13:19:43.090-04:00jimmy beans & jada kiddi kno i haven't shown my face around these parts for a while but to make it up to you...i have story to tell you! lol its an old story so for those of you who know it already, lo siento (i'll think up another misadventure to relive)...so here it is...t'was the fall of 07 and all through the house....<br /><br /><br />...me and curly were approached by these two guys @ this law students bbq right, one's name was Jim, but "they" call him Jimmy Beans. he's sumthing like a rapper...but not quite ((he's "gonna be the puerto rican you see on tv..." because, you know, we never see puerto ricans on tv....right.)) so he was all excited about that...,now the other one looked JUST like jadakiss and i mean he could have really been, from the tims, half shut eyes and almost black lips... he even started rapping to me (which was a little embarassing)...but his name wasn't not jada nothing, it was jason(lol)...and he's not really a rapper, he stocks trucks for UPS...<br />so me and curly were put through the usual formalities of the "let me holla" thing. she was talking jimmy beans and i was chillin with jadakidd...talking about puppies lol...but then i hear curly say to Beans,<br /><br /><strong>"let me hear you kick somethin!"</strong><br /><br />whoa. what?? next thing i know i hear<br /><br /><em>"run up in your spot, bustin' blah blah blah...<br />...see you wit ya blue thong on whomp, whomp, whomp...."</em><br /><br />mister. was going. to. town. making it his mission to show us how queens' finest gets it in. so, while Beans is lettin mercedz know how he strokes with the semi under the pillow i get a tap on the arm...<br />now jada's started up!!<br />so he's spittin his own rendition of 20 questions, askin "shorty, can i be that man?" and "ma, you know what thug look like?"<br /><br />it gets better...<br /><br />somewhere along the way curly got up and left, unbeknownest to yours truly, while both beans and kidd are showcasing their talents...at once.<br />...and im just sitting there. stuck. caught in a crossfire of verbal f*cking and murder.<br /><br />the end :D smhRachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-19661814432386319722008-10-14T21:09:00.014-04:002008-10-15T00:55:43.279-04:00~pl((♥))nkK~<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SPVNKuUU93I/AAAAAAAAAIs/5kbJNqK8KV8/s1600-h/HPIM1132.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257192986652243826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SPVNKuUU93I/AAAAAAAAAIs/5kbJNqK8KV8/s320/HPIM1132.JPG" border="0" /></a>my beta plunkK is such a feisty little monster. this barbarian has been cranky all week and now he's just absolutely had it...so he decided to flip his plant over.<br /><br />at this point<span style="font-size:180%;">~~~~~~^ </span><span style="font-size:100%;">he was still *</span><span style="font-size:180%;">*<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">riled</span> up*<span style="font-size:100%;">*</span><br /></span><div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxg6ilTi7yH96hQAeA27ocjDWzVuC-Hb2Ufh-jGqLLF3QvqJep7iVUrAUYoJylDjXqaTKcJAimfPjBQV8lUsw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0' /><span style="font-size:180%;">^</span>~<span style="font-size:180%;">~<span style="font-size:100%;">~</span></span><span style="font-size:180%;">~<span style="font-size:100%;">~</span></span><span style="font-size:180%;">~now~</span><span style="font-size:100%;">~<span style="font-size:180%;">~</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">~he's calmed down...and i think he realizes that he's done something odd to his environment because he keeps "investigating" the situation.</span></div>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-73411976279566340902008-09-08T18:06:00.005-04:002009-08-12T13:22:46.568-04:00..@...r.T..!...s.t: born with purpose not knowledge<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SMWiN6uhZtI/AAAAAAAAAH8/GUPu4uLeZAo/s1600-h/HPIM0741.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243775701129193170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SMWiN6uhZtI/AAAAAAAAAH8/GUPu4uLeZAo/s400/HPIM0741.JPG" border="0" /></a> im an artist....just a reflection:<br /><br />i came home from school and the first thing i heard was my father’s accusing voice. he was not angry but almost threatening me with his disappointment. "your teacher told me that you've been day dreaming in class, is that true?" i said no. i was in the first grade. it's funny because whenever i think back on that day i say to myself that even if i did realize that i was daydreaming (because i did not notice that while i was flying over the rooftops of Randallstown, i was really taking a spelling test), hearing the tone of my father’s voice, that disapproval, i knew i would have said no and betray my love for imagination either way...<br /><br />i’ve always been a dreamer. a lot of times i cannot even differentiate between what i’ve done and what’s impossible. my dreams want so much to be a part of my life that not even they allow me to sleep; they wake me, incite me and i write and live them. i think impeccable things and i say things that do not make sense. i live a grounded life and my reality is as distant as unseen stars; absent but elevated and shining just as brightly as Scorpius… i am a dreamer. this is who He made me, who He's kept me and into whom he continues to mold me.Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-46007600300625761112008-09-02T22:33:00.003-04:002008-09-09T04:24:48.488-04:00eenk<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241617877996797122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SL33sFJV_MI/AAAAAAAAAHs/0XnU8darICI/s400/HPIM0729.JPG" border="0" /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SL84t13wA0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/w8K2D75fN8Q/s1600-h/HPIM0749+-+Copy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241970851488727874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SL84t13wA0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/w8K2D75fN8Q/s400/HPIM0749+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-12820928837400451832008-08-09T13:04:00.005-04:002008-08-09T15:05:48.683-04:00Bernard Jeffrey McCullough ~1957-2008~<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SJ3ON7QatMI/AAAAAAAAAFk/vwFYHL090gI/s1600-h/Bernie-Mac-1.jpg'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SJ3ON7QatMI/AAAAAAAAAFk/vwFYHL090gI/s400/Bernie-Mac-1.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a>&nbsp;</div><br /><br /><FONT SIZE=+2FACE="georgia">"When I get a chance to play golf or go on a boat with good people, take the boat out and put some lobsters on the grill, get the ice-cold beer and the cigars - that's heaven here on earth."</FONT><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br /><P ALIGN=Center><br /><I><B><FONT COLOR="orange">Bernard Jeffrey McCullough ~1957-2008~</FONT></B></I>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-582881287123712270.post-26265136422917883772008-08-08T21:42:00.026-04:002008-08-09T20:54:47.646-04:00One of Many Misadventures<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SJ470MxEHSI/AAAAAAAAAGE/P8L18RpHMBg/s1600-h/glasses2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232685585017347362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_m4hBqWvKbZw/SJ470MxEHSI/AAAAAAAAAGE/P8L18RpHMBg/s320/glasses2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />i'll start by saying that i don't think it was man...so, we [Rachel Michelle &amp; Brown] meet up with a couple of friends in the city. Locks meets us as we're getting off the elevator so he can hold our coats [february] while we make our entrance [fabulous]. as we're approaching the lounge, Locks tells Brown and I that there is a sort of middle-sexed individual where we are sitting and to be prepared...<br /><br />silly me...i assumed that Locks was forewarning us of the puzzlement to be induced by the sexually ambiguous atmosphere. he was not. in saying “be prepared” what Locks said, devoid of all of the pertinent words, was “be prepared as i show my ass and call this young lady a man in several hundred ways.”<br /><br />although i did find it funny, i still felt a nagging remorse; and for that reason i was glad that Locks kept his commentary only within earshot of me and Brown. i was also glad that as Locks drank more and more, he was less and less able to focus on his feigned perception of the young lady’s 5 o’clock shadow. thereon, the evening progressed rather amicably. the lounge was closing, so we were heading to a private lounge (there were four of us altogether [Rachel Michelle &amp; Brown, Locks &amp; 4th Party]). then, Locks asks, i wouldn't say loudly but, at a sort of drunken decibel,<br /><br /><span style="color:teal;"><p style="FONT-SIZE: x-large">"what about this man, are we taking him with us? am i whispering?"</p></span><br />he was not whispering. <span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:-2;">*sigh*</span>Rachel Michellenoreply@blogger.com3